


Going Home

by StaplerQueen (Bananaise_San)



Series: Season 15 codas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: And Gets One, Angst, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Coda 15x11 - The Gamblers, Gen, Hurt Jack Kline, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Kline Needs A Hug, Mild Gore, Minor Dissociation, Nightmares, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23086078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bananaise_San/pseuds/StaplerQueen
Summary: Jack finally came back from the empty and there was only one thing he wanted, the one thing that seemed out of reach.To go home.
Series: Season 15 codas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515209
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> Oof it took over a month but I finally finished this little coda which ended up thirteen pages long.
> 
> Enjoy.

In the Empty nothing really felt real, everything was just quiet nothing stretching out as far as Jack could see. Or at least, Jack thought it was, he never knew how far he could see because all there was… was nothing.

Jack had to hold his hands in front of his face periodically to remind himself he hadn't gone blind.

He wanted to go home…

There was an aching in his chest, a need for comfort and contact he couldn't shake by wrapping his arms around himself.

He found the words repeating in his head…

"I wanna go home…"

Over and over building up in his chest until it felt hard to breathe, until tears burned in his eyes and he wanted to scream.

He had to wait, Billie said it wasn't safe…

Was Jack even safe here? Somewhere out in that void was Michael, was his own father fast asleep. If he thought too loud would they hear him? Like Castiel once did?

Jack didn't want to find out.

He made a game of counting down, him telling himself that when he got to twenty, thirty, one hundred Billie would be back and he could go home.

It never worked.

But it kept his heart from beating in his throat…

He thought he'd be happy when she came for him…

He wanted to go home, more than anything.

But was it even his to go to anymore?

**  
  
**

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

**  
  
  
**

The first few weeks back Jack felt like he was in a daydream.

He’d woken up lying in the same graveyard he'd died in, Billie having had someone drop off a duffle bag with clothes and money for food and transportation in a nearby mausoleum.

Being unable to fly to travel the world made him feel pressed flat to the ground, like when he lost his grace; he didn't like the reminder of when he was cuffed inside his broken ill vessel.

He tried not to think about it stumbling through the first of Billie's list of monsters. It was easier to take his angel blade and cut open a gigori's chest, (unattach the heart and force it down his throat), when everything felt far away.

But, it wasn't the same kind of far away as he felt when his soul was almost burned out, at least… Jack didn't think it was…

Jack didn't like to think about it.

Either way, if he just followed Billie's plan, just did what she said, he could save his family and not hurt anyone in the process.

It was better that he stayed away, he told himself, but it didn't stop the soft aching in his chest or the mantra from repeating…

"I want to go home…"

It hurt worse late at night when he curled up with a jacket rolled under his head in whatever abandoned out of sight place he was camped out in for the night, when the protective fog in his brain got a little clearer for a bit.

He wanted his bed, he wanted the soothing sound of the machine that pumped air into the bunker, he wanted to hear Cas walking around in the library keeping himself busy in the dead of night, and, if he stretched his human hearing just a little the sounds of Sam and Dean's sleeping breathing in their rooms closer by…

He wanted to feel safe.

It wasn't any better than being in The Empty if he was scared his grandfather would materialize and come for him from any dark corner.

He felt like if he let himself sleep the darkness behind his eyelids would close in around him and lock him up inside.

He wanted to go home…

He knew inside that no one could protect him, the things that wanted to hurt him were just too big, and everything that was small enough for his family to protect him from couldn't hurt him, not really.

_But it could hurt them..._

He knew it was stupid and selfish to want to go home.

But he couldn't help imagining the bunker, picturing it in his head. 

_Pretending he was there was the only way he could fall asleep._

**  
  
**

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

**  
  
**

Jack made a mistake.

It had only been a matter of time, he’d probably just been lucky being able to take down as many Grigori as he had. Jack's plans (when he had to come up with them himself) never seemed to go right. He always seemed to miss something that seemed obvious to the “adults” in his life, and Jack was getting tired of it. He didn’t like feeling stupid. 

_Pain as a nephilim was nowhere near as bad as pain as a human, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still really hurt to get a sword plunged through your side._

At least this time he was the only one who could be hurt…

He’d never been so happy to be so far away as when the Grigori started cutting into him.

It was almost funny, that the grigori thought he was doing anything.

If anything when a person felt like suffering was a small plus in their crusade to make things right, hurting them made them even less likely to break.

**  
  
**

Jack had to fight to keep the instinct to heal away the pain at bay. When he was little (a year and a half ago) he wasn’t able to control his healing at all. Now as the man cut into his chest it was like resisting the urge to blink as your eyes started to burn more and more.

The separate pain of his wrists bruising as he tried to pull his hands free was enough to distract him a little. The building panic that he wouldn't find a way out of this was rising above the cloud of dull calm he wrapped around himself like a hot wooly blanket.

The grigori approached him with it's sword, but it was the shadow at the back of the church that finally burned away the fog…

The crash of emotions almost drowned him: relief, panic, longing, shame. 

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry, most of all he wanted to hide his face…

The grigori's screamed and his body fell to the floor but Jack couldn't bring himself to look his father in the eye.

"Jack?"

Castiel's voice was soft, and the next thing Jack knew the ropes were being cut from his hands and his father was pulling him to his feet hand gently but firmly gripping his shoulders. 

Jack had no choice but to look Castiel in the eye. His father's blue eyes filled with worry and relief, then joy…

They felt very real, suddenly every part of him seemed to hurt more, especially in his heart.

Castiel pulled him close and Jack couldn’t resist melting into the hug. Clutching him tightly, shaking and burying his sweaty face in his shoulder, closing his eyes and feeling his father's solid warmth. 

He could feel the soothing burn of his father's grace sealing the wounds on his abdomen, and throat and he suddenly felt very small, very safe, very real…

**  
  
**

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

**  
  
**

It was the little things that made being back feel real.

Castiel looked shocked when Jack told him he needed to eat the dead grigori's heart but it turned slowly to sheepish understanding.

He cautioned Jack that the police knew where they were and that they needed to move and take the heart with them.

"But this time… could you at least use a fork?"

Jack couldn’t help but smile at the silliness of it.

**  
  
**

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**  
  
**

It had taken Castiel a while to convince Jack to come back to the bunker. Jack felt bad about that.

He felt foolish when he said he couldn't go home because he had to stay hidden, Castiel sheepishly tried to remind him of everything he'd done wrong in the last 24 hours without making Jack feel self conscious.

Castiel had found him, because apparently, he was so bad at sneaking not only did the grigori he was hunting catch him but a passerby called the police to report "suspicious activity,"

"Jack… the bunker is one of the safest places on this planet, you can't be safer outside on the run… alone…" Castiel had desperation in his voice.

_Those wardings mean nothing to Jack’s grandfather…_

Even as Jack's heart leapt at all the wonderful excuses of why he should come back but he still felt something holding him back.

He felt like a kicked puppy.

It felt like he was starving and someone was holding out a beautiful shining yellow apple to him coaxing him to eat it.

The glowing golden idea of home. A place where he was loved, a place that was safe and warm and he didn't have to worry about every move he made because all the people there loved him and knew him and…

He felt like if he bit the proffered apple, it would be snatched out of his hand and everyone would start screaming and yelling at him telling him it wasn't for him how could he even think he deserved something that nice?

He killed Mary.

He didn't deserve anything at all.

His memories were foggy then but the more he thought about it the more he remembered the fear on Sam's face and the fury in Dean's that last day in the bunker.

It was so dark and cold in that box. 

That was the only home he deserved.

“I want to go home…” 

His soul had started to ache with the thought, like a raw healing nerve as soon as Cas arrived blowing the fog away.

"Jack, please come home," Castiel pleaded.

In the end, Jack's hunger won out.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

Sam and Dean were still in Alaska (Castiel explained) when they got back to the bunker, Jack was grateful, but still anxious, he barely noticed he'd frozen at the edge of the garage until Cas coaxed him forward, still speaking to him softly like he was afraid Jack might shatter.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up, and get out of those bloody clothes alright, I'll… I'll find you something to eat…" Castiel said carefully.

Jack nodded numbly before scurrying off.

He tried to focus on what he needed to do, the bunker was the same as when he left, warm and inviting but he felt like if he let his eyes wander they'd focus on something he couldn't bear to see.

The scratches where Mary taught Jack about throwing knives.

The map table where they all had dinner and celebrated when Dean returned from his possession.

The room where Maggie and the other hunters died, where Jack burned out Michael and ruined everything by burning himself out along with him.

The numbing shock of a half worn soul could no longer dull the pain, the self hatred, the grief.

So instead he went to his room, and found his softest sweatshirt, the red one he hadn't worn since he was very sick and went to clean up.

His clothes were folded neatly in his drawer and his toothbrush and shampoo still sat in their cubby in the shower room just the same as he had left them.

Was that a good thing? Sam and Dean at least hadn't thrown all his things away.

Or was it a bad sign, they couldn't even stand to look at the things that reminded them of what a failure he was… 

Jack shivered at the thought.

The water was warm and a hundred times nicer than cleaning up in public bathrooms, Jack closed his eyes shutting them against his fears just for a little bit and breathed in the steam.

He'd take it while he could.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

The bunker door always made a satisfyingly loud noise when it closed, the first few times Jack heard it it had made him jump because he thought it sounded like an animal screeching. Over time it became a reassuring reminder when he stayed up late waiting for people to come home.

Today it made him jump again and he stayed close to Castiel's back.

He heard Sam and Dean talking and the metal stairs clanking as Castiel coaxed him with a gentle look to follow him into the library.

Jack's heart hammered.

He followed slowly behind his father unable to resist the urge to hide behind a pillar as they got closer.

How could he look them in the eyes?

"Cas?” 

“Hey, everything okay?"

He heard Sam ask concerned, Castiel locked eyes with Jack for a brief moment and Jack forced himself forward heart in his throat.

He slowly stepped into view seeing shock pass over the older men's faces, his heart still knocking against his ribs like a ping pong ball.

"H-hello…" he awkwardly waved.

There was an awkward pause, and Jack barely heard Sam say his name questioningly, and Castiel answer.

For a moment, Sam and Dean didn't move, then Sam slowly at first then steadily faster Sam began moving toward him.

Jack fought against the urge to shy away half expecting to get hit but at the last second when Jack chastised himself that he'd deserve it, Sam's face broke into a smile, and his foster father's strong arms wrapped around him.

Jack before he could even think about it threw his arms around him face half buried in Sam's shoulder. Half of him feeling guilty for even accepting it, the other half of him just intensely relieved as he gently rocked with the force of the hug.

After a long moment Sam pulled back still holding his shoulders in his gentle yet firm way studying Jack up and down saying nothing but pure joy and relief in his face.

Then everyone's attention turned a little nervously to Dean who'd walked closer during the exchange.

Jack tightened his jaw again ready to face whatever punishment the man thought he deserved.

But Dean's touch was gentle on his neck as he studied him with an inscrutable expression that softened after a moment as he looked Jack over.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry…" Jack tried to convey forcing himself to retain eye contact until Dean broke it to look meaningfully as Cas.

"It's him, it's really him…" Cas's voice almost shook.

**  
  
**

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**  
  
**

Everything felt like a blur after that emotions flying through Jack's head too fast to catch.

Relief, fear, giddiness, worry, uncertainty, warmth, sadness.

He gently clutched the beer bottle not drinking it, he didn't really like it, (it tasted weird, and it probably would mix well with what he’d already eaten) but it was cool and comforting in his hands and made him feel included.

"Jack, you ate their hearts?"

Sam made Jack focus back on the world around him. 

"I-I had to…"

It wasn't like Jack wanted to eat grigori hearts. They tasted like raw meat and salty metally blood and made his stomach hurt.

He had to make them understand, after everything, he was trying, he wasn't some monster anymore he had a good reason.

He tried to explain everything, why he couldn't come home.

_No matter how much he wanted to._

Billie's plan.

_What little he knew about it._

The plan to kill Chuck.

Chuck, god, his grandfather.

It hurt when he thought about it too hard, how little the being cared for him. How uncomfortable it made him that Chuck was scared of him. 

And how much he still didn't want to do it.

Jack's body felt heavy with the weight of the responsibility.

Sam seemed to notice how exhausted he looked.

"Hey guys it's getting late, we've been in the car all day and it sounds like Cas and Jack had a long day too… how about we all turn in for the night…"

Dean sighed a tired reply getting up soon afterwards patting Jack on the back before leaving, and Sam gave the boy another hug before he left, "It's really great to have you home… just… really great…" the man smiled a little watery.

Jack couldn't help but smile shakily back, "yeah," he choked before Sam left.

Castiel came last and was somehow the hardest. He seemed to see right through Jack with how he couldn't seem to look away from him.

It made Jack feel like he was made of glass.

"Jack you know… You can talk to me about anything, right?" He said so earnestly.

Jack's mouth opened and closed and he bit his lip.

"I know…" he fiddled with the label on his undrunk beer, "but I… I'm really tired…"

It wasn't a lie, Jack was exhausted, his brain was so full it was buzzing but his bones ached from long nights in old warehouses and he felt too fuzzy to put anything into words.

Castiel smiled a little sadly, "tomorrow maybe…"

Jack smiled wearily back.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

Jack fiddled with the bit of snake skin he's found on his desk feeling too small for his bones standing barefoot in his pajamas.

Guilt bloomed in his chest with the wrongness of it, he couldn't let himself feel the big things but the small things wormed their way in.

Felix was a good snake, he never bit or hissed and he seemed to like to be held, he didn't deserve to die…

He should have found a way to save him he…

Jack heard his bedroom door creak open and jumped hiding the skin in his hand.

"Cas?" He turned towards the cracked door when there was no response.

"Sam?" He tried again, walking slowly toward the door still receiving no answer.

The hallway was uncharacteristically dark, the usual soft glow that emanated from the hallway must have been shut off. But that was weird because they were never off, Jack could always see the light glowing under his door, (or shining through when he left it open a crack on nights the bad dreams got the better of him).

"D-dean?" he tried, cautiously peering out into the darkness of the hall.

Strange. Not even the bathroom light looked on it was pitch…

Something grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward making him gasp.

"Cas!" he yelped feeling more hands gripping his shoulders painfully tight, yanking him into the air.

"S-sam! ...Dean! h-elp me!" his voice cracked, he reached instinctively for powers that didn't respond.

"Oh we're here all right…" Dean's voice say coldly, "did you really think we'd let it go so easily?"

Dean's voice was far away but the hands gripping him yanked Jack forward.

'She was our mother Jack, she loved you… how could you…" he heard Sam say quietly.

Jack whimpered trying to drag his feet but his legs swung at empty space as more hands tightened around him, pulling his arms pulled tight to his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry," he sobbed.

"I'm sorry too Jack, but this is how it has to be…" he heard Cas's voice say mournfully.

Jack fought against the hands which now felt more like vice grips pulling him towards his doom, he couldn't even see the men around him or the light of his bedroom behind him. It was all just black.

Fear lanced through him, "No no no… please don't, l-let me go!"

All of the sudden the hands were gone and he landed with a heavy clang on the ground, knocking the wind out of him he gasped and groped around his knuckles and head whacking into something painfully.

No no no, not again, for a long moment he froze convinced he was back in the box his chest tightening further at the thought but then his eyes began to adjust.

He saw light glow from under his door.

He took a shaky breath again and more carefully felt around him, the side of his bed… and the side table… He'd fallen off.

Jack breathed deeply trying to calm down but even as he untangled himself from his blankets and pushed himself up on his elbows he couldn't stop shaking.

It was just a dream, just a bad dream… He leaned against the side of his bed and hugged himself, trying uselessly to self soothe.

He felt a lump of tears in his throat and closed his eyes resisting the urge to call out for his dad.

He listened closely hearing Castiel wandering on the far side of the bunker and Sam and Dean were fast asleep, breathing deeply and evenly in their rooms.

Jack shakily tried to copy them calming down his panicked gasping, after a few long moments his chest began to still.

He climbed shakily to his feet and pulled his blankets back onto his bed. Jack started to climb back in then paused wandering sheepishly to his door and opened it a crack.

A little more light never hurt anyone.

He settled back onto his mattress and tried to go back to sleep.

**-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-**

It was a few minutes later around three in the morning when Cas crept his way to Jack's room, having sworn that he heard something.

_His hearing seemed to be weakening along with his grace._

Jack was under his covers pretending to sleep, but he still heard the angel come in slowly and felt his blankets being pulled up to his shoulders.

Castiel gently brushed back his charge’s hair, and whispered softly, "sleep well Jack…"

**  
  
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Jack for once was glad that nights were so long because it had taken several hours for him to fall back to sleep.

A good five hours in his own bed felt nicer than nearly a month in a plethora of old warehouses and he was still up before the majority of the bunker.

Dean was still snoozing away the long drive from Alaska and Sam wasn't in his room probably off going on one of his runs.

If Jack crept carefully he could avoid Castiel entirely.

He didn't know why he was doing it, not really, he felt better knowing they all were there, part of him wanted nothing more than to seek his father out and sink into his arms again.

But he wouldn't be able to take away what Jack still had to do and seeing the sadness in his eyes would make him think about how much pain he put him in.

It was too early in the day to deal with all his bad feelings, so instead Jack settled for finding something to eat.

He wasted a few moments looking through the mostly empty fridge for something he knew how to make when he spotted the blue box sitting across the room on the pantry shelf.

He sheepishly made his way over to the box and picked it up to be sure.

It was the same as always, the happy mascot smiling back at him, and when he shook the box there was still some cereal left. Crunch Cookie Crunch. They hadn't thrown it out.

He hurried to find a bowl and fumbled spilling a little milk in his haste.

It was a little stale after it's lonely months on the shelf but it still tasted wonderful.

Jack could feel a lump of tears forming in his throat. It tasted like home and good things.

And Jack finally let himself relax, and feel like he'd be okay.


End file.
